


Little boy blue

by A_Nobelmonster



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Boy King, Child Abuse, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Stabbing, drug mention, kengo dies early, poor coping skills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-09 20:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12283962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Nobelmonster/pseuds/A_Nobelmonster
Summary: Based on tumblr artist @kitsunette work. Kengo dies earlier than the books resulting in Ichirou taking over though under the figurehead of Tetsuji. Ichirou takes Riko, his loyal younger brother under his wing. Of course, nothing is easy and the Moriyama children have to deal with kidnapping, unexpected familial feelings, and power struggles within the empire.





	1. Prologue: Milk Carton

**Author's Note:**

> Look @http://kitshunette.tumblr.com/ for the original story that inspired me. 
> 
> I've ofc taken liberties arranging and adding things but the bare bones of the story are theirs and not mine I'm just having fun writing.

He hadn’t meant to fall in the but he didn’t try to save himself. It's really all the same.

There’s this poem about a knight or something. No a princess who's really a dragon? He can’t remember but he’s not really a dragon. He’s not really a soft thing with a dangerous thing at heart.

He’s soft. Soft. rotting.

The tingle in Riko’s hand, its called a barbiturate. It's a hard word to remember when your brain is mothballs and holes with drugs pouring through the cracks like sand.

“Go”

The voice doesn’t tell him where to go, he’s in a canal and the sky is bright and blue and burning. He can’t remember the last time he saw the sky. He hates it. He wants to crawl inside himself.

The canal water burns the scrapes on his knees from falling into the rocks. A confetti of leaves and dirt stick to the exposed raw skin.

It's a party. Confetti. You have that at a party.

“Im-is this a party? I didn't. he just said go but I'd... didn’t know where.” The young woman on the sidewalk in tight bands of black and neon yellow athletic gear asks if he’s ok again.

Numb fingers push at the wet fringe on his forehead he squints his eyes looking at her before looking at the menacing open blue of the sky again. He stares into the sun when the ambulances come the sun is still burning him up behind his closed eyelids.

The hole the sun burns into him blisters and aches with the need to remember where he’s supposed to go, where he’s supposed to be.

“I'm lost” he realizes this. And it breaks and stumbles through his teeth. I'm lostimlostimlostimlost.

Because if he’s lost he can be found and he wants to be found, he wants to go where he’s supposed to go.

If he’s found- if he’s found maybe Riko’s heart will stop trying to kill him.

“He’s crashing.” All melted wings and singed heartstring. “He’s crashing.”


	2. Band-aids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mouth is a mouse. It squeaks quietly when the nurse’s poke and prod him, it twitches nervously when he see’s the black haired boy with his knight beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't have written this without kitsunette on tumblr, what a gem. Also, Riverdale, what a gothic muse.

The doctor gave him band-aids so he knows he was hurt but he stills wants to ask. Riko doesn’t like to think about the place he was before so if he asks in the hospital maybe it will be different.

Like looking through a glass. A barrier.

When the doctor says he has some damage to his hearing, bruises and burns he squints his eyes to blur his vision but Riko’s still scared about what the doctors saying. He’s still thinking about bad men and places where the ceiling is broken into stars.

“your uncle will be coming to pick you up.” oh good, someones found him and he’ll be ok.

The clock tick and tocks. He orders oatmeal then a turkey sandwich and soup. More medicine while he looks at the clock and when he opens his eye’s again and he’s still alone. He tries not to wait anymore.

It's been sixteen hours when he gets guests. Riko is good at counting, he had to count a lot in the place he was before where day was night and night was day. No one ever told Riko the time. He doesn’t recognize his guests.

His mouth is a mouse. It squeaks quietly when the nurse’s poke and prod him, it twitches nervously when he see’s the black haired boy with his knight beside him.

Not his uncle. Not his uncle? Everyone looks the same in his head.

When Riko looks at himself in the mirror of the attached bathroom his face is like stretched clay, mashed and pulled into beige swirls.

“ Hello Riko, I’m Ichirou and this is my bodyguard Nathan. We have come to collect you in place of uncle Tetsuji.” Riko does what he’s told, its hard not. Its hard to want not to with the inviting expression on Ichirou’s smooth face.

The doctor comes in then, he gave Riko a sucker when he woke up the first time, it was green like sea glass. A small voice said he was too old for the apple flavored sweet but that voice is not a doctor or an adult, its just Riko's own voice so he ignored it.

Nathan the bodyguard with his blood red hair hands Riko a black puffed jacket that's very big on him. It falls just to his knees when he stands making him feel protected in its fluffy embrace. Riko’s legs hurt from the rocks before, he wobbles slowly from the bed across the white tile flecked with gray to his guests. Ichirou slips his hands into Riko quickly leading him out the hospital door to the waiting dark blue SUV.

Everything is the same as when he came into the hospital. He’s unconscious of it all. Almost all of it.

The sun burned his eyes with sharp heat, Ichirou warms him from the point of contact at their palms in a slow gentle warmth like a candle.

Ichirou is firm and strong though he can’t be much older than Riko, quietly Riko thinks Ichirou is so firm that he could lean against the taller boys unyielding strength all day. The world taste like damp earth outside reminding him of the prison where he had no voice and he reminds himself to be grateful for what he’s been giving.

And that it’s a mistake to lean against anyone for long.

Greediness causes pain. He holds onto Ichirou’s hand desperately.

This is enough. He’s been found. This is more than enough.

Riko Moriyama had been kidnapped for four months by a smaller rival North American crime group. In his captivity, he spent ninety percent of his time in a cyclical routine of isolation. Near starvation and sleep. He does not recall the missing ten percent out of self-preservation.

There are things he cannot say Like he’s not entirely sure why Ichirou had come to get him or that until part way through the drive to the other boy’s New York home he could not place his connection to Riko.

This is my brother.

The connection of a person who had been such a sacred lifeline since he was allowed to hold his brothers name on his tongue and he had just forgotten it. Like so many other things he could not recall with certainty. Riko knew to ride a bike. Following the logic that you sat on the seat and peddled to move but he could not remember if he had ever learned to ride and if he had were the memories of riding down streets raining fall leaves his own or something he had seen on tv. Was the rough language spoken in his dreams one he knew?

All the parts that his captors had let die in the lightless depression of his cage had been small, crucial human parts. How do you regain yourself?

It feels like more than a nine-year-old should bare. Riko would like to set down these burdens.

“Are you tired Riko?” “Are you tired Riko?” For a moment he doesn’t know who’s asking, His brother's lips move and he can’t place the voice.

“No.”

“If you're tired you can go to sleep” he had and he had woken up naked and chained in the corner. No one had touched him, they hadn’t needed to make him feel skinned by his own vulnerability. He had had to start making up rules then. Don’t drink the apple juice, don’t fall asleep, don’t get complacent.

Ichirou frowns. Like he knows the exhaustion stumbling, whipping as a tornado would through the alleys of his lungs gaining speed in the cavity of his chest with vertigo that will not set him down easily once it's passed.

They get out of the car. The house is a big castle. It's not literally a caste but its beautiful and regal. Tones of cream on silk, on tile, open the front entrance.

Riko thinks maybe the drugs are still in his veins. He can’t retain the last few hours with enough clarity to say if Ichirou had ever let go of his hand or not. 

Up, up they go with his brother, he has to remind himself of this and Nathan.

“This is my bedroom.” Ichirou points to a door that looks like all the other doors in the hallway. “This is the room you will be staying in for now.”

Riko is good at math. He can keep track of the time for 120 days straight. Then why does the face of his kin pinch and settle into displeasure? It doesn’t add up. Ichirou could leave Riko in the spot where he stood if he decided and Riko would collect dust until his return. He doesn’t want to be an obligation.

Do not speak unless spoken to rules his heart with fierce dictatorship or he would have said he was ok. ‘I’ll be alright you don’t have to worry about me’ it had been in a children's movie he had seen, he would say that with sincerity. If he could.

He’s gently nudged in the direction of the bed. Riko stopped counting time in the hospital but the open window says evening.

“-ay down. “ Sometimes it's hard to hear so he turns to the other side to watch the older Moriyama sit in a chair. “You can lay down. You should rest.” Again, his face doesn’t say concern.

With his shoes off Riko crawls to the head of the bed. He watches the others in the room intently pulling the blanket over the jeans he had been given to change into before being discharged. Knee’s bent against his stomach he cradles his arms tilting his head to rest.

It feels like hours that he looks as his brother's feet, polished shoes tucked together. There is no need to watch faces or hands he learned being kidnapped. Feet begin the movement of fists.

No matter how dark the room grows or how violently Riko’s heavy eyelids snap out after dozing, no one moves.

Maybe this is where he lays his heaviness to rest.


End file.
